βГοΚεŋ
by Rachelle Lo
Summary: This is a cruel joke....to put Artemis Fowl in the cell next to mine.


A/N: To me, the saddest fate is to be imprisoned. A brilliant mind could waste away in those boring cold cells, useless... So this is a tribute to some of the conquered villains of the AF world.

Two, to be specific.

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βГοΚεŋ

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Is this cruel? Sweet? Bitter, happy revenge.

Indirectly. I didn't bring this about. Maybe it would actually make me happy if I had. I haven't felt happy for a long time, but this...shouldn't this?

This is a cruel joke, to put Artemis Fowl in the cell next to mine.

I watched them bring him inside through the thin sheet of glass. Although I have exceptional ability in decoding facial expressions, his face--his mask--was smooth, impossible to decipher.

Heh. He looked like I felt.

The guards gloated, acting tough, and handled him roughly (this was the infamous Fowl, after all), but absolutely no reaction was expresssed. Belatedly, I noticed more security was stationed outside through the open door (open door, the amatuers). Apparently this skinny pale teenager was a high-risk prisoner.

Even more than me.

The chains chinked and rattled as they were attached to his wrists and ankles. I looked down at my own. They're more for show than anything, really, these chains. More for psychological distress (or comfort, depending on what side of the prison walls you're on) than for actual security.

They weren't attached to the wall or floor (like the barbaric human dungeons), only from wrist to wrist, ankle to ankle, allowing free movement around the Haven cell, if you didn't mind the clanking. Mostly, I tried not to move, preferring silence.

Artemis Fowl continued to stare at his wrists unfeelingly, studying the weak metal (honestly, a nail file could break through these chains, if they were allowed) as the guards made another apparently hilarious comment and left in uproarious laughter, clapping each other on the back. Very professional.

The door closed with an efficient snick, reminding the inmates that this was the most technologically equipped and guarded prison under or over the earth and the futility of escape. As if we needed a reminder.

That's right. "We." I had a cellmate of sorts. I turned my eyes from the door to the raven-haired human. He ran a finger around the edge of the cuff, tracing his wrist, and looked up. Into my eyes. His mask broke, shattered, and shock bled through, then replaced by a small, bitter smile.

And he spoke my name.

"Opal Koboi..."

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Should I have felt joy? Satisfaction, maybe? That the one who put me in here is now thrown in with me? I don't feel anything. Long ago, it seems, ages, the old me would have, would have gloated and screamed and ranted. Now...

These prison walls, chains, suck your emotions dry. Suck them dry and let them bleed and dry into these cold hard floors.

They leave behind your poetic side, though.

Hmmmm...so no hate....curiousity, then? Should I wonder why the one who (pardon the cliche) foiled my schemes? The designated "good guy"?

I stare through the glass separating our two cells at my ex-arch enemy. Somehow, I just can't bring myself to answer my own questions. Or care.

If he's the "good guy", then am I still the "bad"? I feel different. We're both imprisoned, now.

I was just first.

Our gazes locked. His mask was back. We don't say a word, watching through the thin sheet of glass.

_You must look so broken, Opal._

That's right. He expects a vicious, vengeful pixie. What am I now? The ambitious Koboi, world conquerer, is gone. She was replaced by shell awhile ago, and I don't mean a clone to escape. Oh, now I have a sense of humor, too. The world conquerer is definitely not here.

_His _voice interrupted my musings. "So, this is my punishment."

I turned toward the sound. His head rested agianst the wall, his eyes closed, facing upward, his arms limp.

"No, the real irony is--" mismatched eyes opened--"they confined me with the very pixie I assisted in placing here. Oh, my apologies, _human_ , now, is it not?" He said this softly, evenly, not at all like the tone I expected. Although I of all people should know that genii can effectively veil their inner thoughts.

I nodded slowly, expressionless, even though the question did not require an answer. My hair shifted with the movement. My fingers combed the strands back into place.

When I looked back, blue and hazel are studying me. Contemplating my change, I guessed. the Opal Koboi he knew doesn't exist anymore, or has been shattered and buried too deep to ever heal.

Be grateful she won't mend completely.

Artemis Fowl, somehow, I think, saw this. He came to a decision, and leaned forward, his eyes calm. Sad. A small smile.

"We've been broken, Opal."


End file.
